


The Guardian (Halcyon Days)

by sweetumms33



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BlackMadness, Fix-it: Sirius loves Remus, M/M, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 20:58:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20070496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetumms33/pseuds/sweetumms33
Summary: Not from successful love alone,Nor wealth, nor honor'd middle age, nor victories of politics or war;But as life wanes, and all the turbulent passions calm,As gorgeous, vapory, silent hues cover the evening sky,As softness, fulness, rest, suffuse the frame, like freshier, balmier air,As the days take on a mellower light, and the apple at last hangs really finish'd and indolent-ripe on the tree,Then for the teeming quietest, happiest days of all!The brooding and blissful halcyon days!- Walt Whitman





	1. Chapter 1

The atmosphere of the room was immediately noted to be tense when Remus stepped out of the fireplace. He’d had to make multiple stops on his trip back from Eastern Europe and added more on to further obscure his final destination. Stomach roiling as he’d never been the happiest with the Floo network in the first place, Remus contemplated sneaking up the stairs and presenting himself later. Molly’s raised voice could be heard, with murmuring behind it, before Sirius erupted with a “Bloody hell!”

Remus sighed. The Weasleys had moved into 12 Grimmauld Place only a week ago, but tensions were already running high between Molly and Sirius. If it wasn’t over the “state of the place,” which Molly repeatedly used while glancing testily at Remus and Sirius, it was monologuing on why grown men shouldn’t tell children stories. Given Sirius and Remus had opened the place up only a month before, Remus was a tad resentful over the commentary on their house cleaning. He could hold his tongue though. Sirius was an entirely different story, edgy and angry, throwing himself from one room to another; Grimmauld made his skin crawl, that’s what he’d been saying for weeks.

“They are not children, Molly, whether or not you like it.”

“Of course they are,” Molly snapped angrily. “What else would they be but children? And how on earth you think they are supposed to cope with a war, when they should be enjoying themselves! They don’t need to know things, like what You-Know-Who is doing!”

“Considering Harry gets a live preview through his scar, and likely tells Ron and Hermione, I doubt we are telling them things they don’t know,” Sirius retorted, his voice lowering. Remus could see the shadow of sadness passing over his face as he stepped into the room. Sirius and Molly were facing each other, a basket of laundry laying forgotten at her feet. Nearby stood Arthur Weasley, looking resigned, while Minerva McGonagall sat in one of the armchairs, her lips pressed together. He guessed he’d walked into the beginning or end of an Order meeting. Checking his watch, he surmised beginning.

“And that’s another thing,” Molly said, throwing her arm in the air. “Why on earth are you discussing these things with him, instead of telling him to close his mind? He’s seen enough horrors, and you just won’t let him move on!”

“He can’t move on, Molly, can’t you see that? He’s part of this,” Sirius replied. His face grew frustrated. “You can’t just coddle him and tell him it’s going to be okay. He’s not a child.”

“Yes he is,” Molly shouted, obviously frustrated. Arthur stood and laid a hand on Molly’s arm. “Now let’s all calm down, we all want to do the best thing for Harry, and for all of our children.”

“Yes, _ we _ do,” emphasized Molly scathingly. “Sirius seems to think he has his best friend back.”

“I do,” Sirius replied coldly. “I’ve turned out to not be a murdering pure-blood lunatic, so Remus has welcomed me back with open arms.”

At the mention of his name, Remus stepped further into the room. “You’re still a lunatic, Pads,” he said softly, trying to defuse the situation.

Sirius turned to him, as his face lit into a smile. “Moony, you’re back! How was the trip? Let’s get some tea into you.” Sirius had reached Remus at this time, and pulled him into a hug. For a moment, Remus could only hear the snuffle of Sirius’s breathing against his neck, and felt something safe and warm lodge into him.

“I’m famished actually,” Remus replied, and allowed Sirius to lead him from the room. They were stopped my Molly’s shrill voice.

“I’ll have your word, Sirius.”

They turned in unison. Molly was standing with her arms folded under her ample chest. “Your word, Sirius,” she said, her eyes brimming with furious tears. Arthur sighed next to her.

“You have my word not to tell your underage children anything of import, Molly.” Sirius’s voice was mechanical and heavy. He was in the process of turning away, when Molly called, “That includes Harry and Hermione.”

Sirius whirled around. “No, it does not. Hermione can discuss war with _ her _ parents as she chooses, and as Harry’s godfather, I think it appropriate to discuss with him.”

“No, you will not! Harry’s just a boy Sirius, can’t you see that? Remus, talk some sense into him.” At Remus’s closed face, she abruptly changed tactics. “You will not, Sirius, or I will go to Dumbledore.“ 

“And what will that do? I am still his guardian!”

“No you aren’t! Just being a godfather doesn’t give you any parental rights!” 

“Just being his best friend’s mother doesn’t either!”

“I’ve done more for him than you have, been unavailable haven’t you?”

There’s a sharp silence after that statement, and even Molly seems shocked by her words. Remus feels an anger growing in him, nearly bubbling to the surface. Minerva was standing, an observer until this point.

“That is not what you meant, is it Molly?” Arthur’s voice, usually so pleasant, had a steel undertone to it.

“No, of course not,” Molly whispered. “Sirius, I—“

“Oh you’ve voiced it before, if not so directly,” Sirius forced jovially. “It is true, being locked in Azkaban does make you a poor guardian. It doesn’t change the fact that I _ am _his legal guardian, and the one his parents chose.” 

Arthur’s face looks surprised after this. “Sirius,” he says quietly. “His aunt and uncle are his guardians, both under Muggle and Wizarding law. There was no will.”

“Of course they had a will,” Remus says, entering the fray. “Lily was one of the most organized women on the planet. They had a will complete the day Harry was born. It was updated once-,” he interrupted himself. “Once they knew Voldemort was after them.”

“The papers all reported otherwise, it’s why The Boy Who Lived went to his Muggle relatives,” Arthur’s voice was patient, like that explaining something to a small child.

“I was a witness,” Remus replied angrily. “I signed the damn paper myself. Sirius was guardian, and if not him, then,” his voice caught, “Peter. Lily joked that the world would be horrified to know she was leaving her child to a bunch of Marauders.”

“And James said that Harry was already Marauder, and could only be properly be raised by one,” Sirius said smiling. “Ha, do you remember how he was trying to get Harry to say Marauders?”

“Or to get him to stop calling him “Pwog” instead of dad,” Remus said. He could still see Harry, gripping James’s face yelling “Pwogs!” at the top of his lungs while Lily laughed so hard she cried. Turning back towards the Weasleys, he shrugged his shoulders. “I always knew no one would let a werewolf adopt a boy, and even more so after Harry became famous. There was no one else, so I thought that’s why he went to the Muggles.”

There’s a dead silence in the room. Minerva laughed then, a short chuckle. “Well that makes me feel better.” At everyone’s confused looks, she explained, “Harry’s permission slip for Hogsmeade. Sirius signed it.” Still everyone looked confused. “I’d charmed the slips myself, so that only a true parent or guardian could sign them. Did it with all official documentation, so that some of our more _ exceptional _ students,” and here she paused and gave the Weasleys a significant look, “couldn’t sign slips that were meant for parents. I’d already decided to just let Potter go to Hogsmeade the next year as head of house when the parchment came in. I was surprised, but let it go. Seems the parchment knew more than me.”

“So you are Harry’s guardian,” Arthur said slowly.

“Yes,” Sirius replied. “I’m Harry’s legal guardian, Azkaban escapee or not. Both in the wizard and Muggle worlds. Lily made sure of that. And he’s my legal heir, including this ramshackle piece of shi-,“ his voice cut off at the quelling look from McGonagall. “I-uh-I had already changed and updated my will, to include him, before I was sent off, but I updated it again this summer. A little gold will go a long way,” he added at Molly’s surprised look.

“I take it Albus knows these things,” Minerva said finally, something flashing in her eyes.

“I’m still under the assumption that Dumbledore knows everything,” Sirius replied dryly. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes before turning. He turned again to Molly. “As I said before Molly, I don’t agree with your views on information. And while I will ask Harry to not discuss details with your children, in all reality, I doubt they will not know anything I tell him within hours if not minutes. “

“We appreciate you trying, Sirius.” Arthur said, his hand still resting on Molly’s arm. Molly nodded rigidly. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Remus could see Arthur’s grip tightening on her arm. “I just want them to have a childhood,” she said finally.

Remus smiled at Molly, his anger beginning to dissipateing. “In all reality Molly, I think that ship has sailed.”

“Ship has sailed,” Arthur asked interested. “Is that a Muggle saying?” 

“Yes,” Remus laughed. “It means that option has long since passed.” Sobering, he shot a glance at Sirius. “We had to grow up too quickly out of Hogwarts. I hope this generation will have time to be a kid when this war is over.”

There was a moment of contemplative silence, and Remus was surprised when he heard McGonagall give a sniff.

She gave a choked laugh. “I just remember you boys as first years. _ All _of you boys,” she emphasized. “I hate to think how old I am, if you sound that aged Mr. Lupin.”

Sirius laughed. “Dearest Minnie,” he smiled cutting off her retort. “Do not fear. I will always be young at heart, and capable of a dung bomb at unexpected moments.”

“Ever unadvisable,” Remus inserted, laughing lightly.

“You always were the brains to the operation,” Sirius replied.

McGonagall laughed, and turned to the Weasleys. “Your Fred and George give this gang a run for their money. I’m regularly grateful they don’t have their own Lupin to perfect their schemes.”

Molly gave a large sigh. “I tell and I tell those two to keep it in line,” she started.

“They’re great kids, Molly.” Remus said, cutting her off. “Very bright, and always willing to help. Not a cruel bone in either of their bodies. They were obviously raised to care about other people.”

Molly blushed at the compliment. “Thank you, Remus.” Arthur beamed next to him. There’s a sense of camaraderie as they troop down the stairs, Molly trilling about tea, Minerva agreeing. There will be another meeting tonight, more arguments about how to best interpret the scant information they have. Sirius’s hand slid into Remus’s, their fingers intertwining. A sense of peace washed over him, just for a moment, before Molly’s squawking about “the state of this kitchen,” shattered the content. Remus felt Sirius stiffen before his hand pulled away, and Remus could only sigh.

Remus felt Sirius’s exhaustion as they climbed into bed that night, sliding under the sheets of his childhood bed. They were sharing a room under the pretense of the difficulty of cleaning the others, but the way Arthur nodded calmly, and tightened his grip on Molly’s arm, it was obvious they knew.

“Think Molly’s having a fit about our “unnaturalness” downstairs,” Sirius asked as he flopped backwards, his hair flying out around him.

Remus huffed a laugh, settling in more delicately, his face rubbing against the silk of the sheets. Green they may be, and probably charmed with some sort of Dark Magic, but these were the softest sheets he’d felt in years. “I’m sure Arthur’s talked her down.”

Sirius growled. “Doesn’t change that she’s yelling ‘Fag’ in her head loud as she can.” 

“And she can continue to do that, Padfoot.” Remus let his foot slide against Sirius’, and he immediately stretched, with his wide extravagant movements to look at Remus. 

Sirius’s face was placid, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Really Moony, no grand lecture, no scheme. Just a shag?”

Remus let a little puff of laughter. “I wish it was a shag,” he replied, letting tiredness slip into his voice. “But I--” he stopped himself, looking helplessly at Sirius, feeling a burning sensation in his chest. Sirius was staring at him, a slight curve of a smile on his face, his eyes surprisingly unshadowed. “I’m happy to be home,” he finally whispered, still so uncomfortable with intimacy. 

“Oh, Moony.” It was a voice that Remus has barely ever heard, and he’d thought disappeared in Azkaban. Sirius pulled him closer, snuffling into his neck. They held one another for a few moments, then he murmured, “It’s good to have you.” 

Sirius’s steady heartbeat pulsed beneath Remus’s fingers, and he could feel his own start to sync slowly. He knew this sound, the thwap of a valve opening, blood flowing through, the way it settled as Sirius’s breath slowed. There was a sense of peace in those two valves (or is it four? His foray into Muggle medicine was short-lived.) “Sirius,” he whispered, before he could stop himself. “Does a heart have two valves or four?”

“Four,” Sirius gruffed out, his breath little puffs on Remus’s temple. “Why?”

“Counting,” Remus said quietly. He knew not to ask Sirius questions, to stretch the limits of his tired mind. Sirius had once seemed to know everything about anything, though he never seemed to use it for anything other than a nefarious purpose. The habit of just asking slipped back to Remus so quickly after a once clean-shaven, and simply clean Sirius reemerged, only to be reminded that while his outside could be scrubbed, his mind was still filled with sudden potholes and quicksand. Remus was relearning Sirius, this Sirius, and it was even harder than learning to live life without him. 

Sirius was pulling away slightly, and Remus tensed for the inevitable swell of fury, of frustration at life, and possibly at him. But instead, Sirius slid one hand next to Remus’s and began to count. “1,2-3 4. 1 2 -3 4,” alongside his own heart beat, tapping it out lightly with his index finger, his other hand splayed along Remus’s upper back. Remus knew this had happened before, could feel a sense of deja vu, but couldn’t place it clearly. He wanted so desperately to hold on to the moment, but exhaustion and Sirius’s low voice were combining, and he finally succumbed.  


The light in the room was low when Remus finally struggled to open his eyes. It was that pinkish-orange glow of an early summer morning, one that was crisp and clean before burning into a typical muggy summer day. Sirius was sitting up in bed next to him, wand in hand, carefully reading a book. His tongue was poking out of the right corner of his mouth, and his hair was tied into a top knot, a few stray strands hanging over. Remus surreptitiously tried to look at the book he was studying. 

“Charms, Mooniekins,” Sirius said, before placing the book down. He shot a glare at Remus. “And do not start on how I leaned on Lily too much. Harry wouldn’t exist if I hadn’t made Lily tutor me.” 

Remus laughed, and stretched his arms over his head. “Gah, watching her patiently explain timed Freezing Charms to you while James had a nervous breakdown was probably a highlight of 6th year.”

“Daft bugger was never going to ask her out, despite cleaning himself up. I had to do something.” The book was tossed toward Remus, and his eyes skimmed across “Charming Charms for the Everyday Man.”

“Really, Sirius,” he asked, sitting up and opening the book randomly. The charm listed showed cleaning a highball glass. “Thinking of throwing a party?”

“Of course! I’ll invite Molly and all the kids, get’em all liquored up. She’ll definitely take a shine to me then.” He flipped it a few pages back, showing a simple hair grooming spell. “It’s strange, but I can’t seem to remember how I did my hair. Or shaved for that matter. I think I had Black family charms on my clothes to keep them straight, and they were all stopped. I assume when darling mother passed.” A dark look passed across his eyes, and his lips curve down.

“That’s because you never did your hair, and I inevitably had to shave off whatever monstrosity you’d grown on your face,” Remus said dryly. He was rewarded with a smirk, and continued. “You thought the ‘rumpled’ look was a thing.”

“It was,” Sirius exclaimed, “and it still is.” He flipped to another page, where a sparkly wizard pointed at his perfectly combed locks, yelled “Musstifo” and his hair became casually tousled. “I _ told _ you this would become a thing. But I know I used another charm for that.” Sirius bit his lower lip, apparently wracking his brain for the charm while muttering under his breath. Remus flipped the cover back over, and noted how new it looked.

“How did you get this, Padfoot?” There was a note of anxiety in his voice. 

“Owl-order,” Sirius replied absently

“With what money,” Remus asked, exasperated. Their pooled funds were poor, given they mainly came from his meager savings, and while he wouldn’t begrudge Sirius a book, they still had to be careful. 

“Mine,” Sirius said. His wand was now pointing at his head, and with a quick flick, his hair ruffled, looking like he’d just stepped off his motorcycle. “I knew I knew it,” he shouted triumphantly, jumping out of bed and hurrying over to the mirror hanging over the bureau. 

The early morning sunlight softened the lines of Sirius’s face. Combined with the genuine joy in his expression as he preened in the mirror, Sirius looked 22 again. Or, if not 22, then the way he should look in his 30s, sans Azkaban. Remus dubbed the look ‘sans-Azkaban’ in his head, then waved his arm to get Sirius’s attention. 

“What money,” he asked again more firmly, “and what wand are you using?”

“Oh, this is my great grandfather’s, found it mouldering in the attic.” Sirius gave it a little twirl, and flounced back into the bed. Remus rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t work perfectly, but Kingsley said mine is somewhere in the bowels of the ministry. He’s been trying to look for it, says he’ll snatch it for me.”

“And money,” Remus said patiently. 

“Oh, well, goblins don’t follow wizarding law, just old blood laws and, well, financial laws. The Black vaults have been blood warded for generations, and as long as I am alive, as the heir, only I can access them. Apparently Lucius Malfoy went sniffing around them after my mother died, tried to bleed his kid onto them. Though Harry says the kid’s a right prat, so maybe not a loss.”

“You opened your vaults,” Remus asked, his voice rising in pitch. “Padfoot, you could be caught. It could lead back here. Damnit, we need to hide you, I can’t - I can’t have you gone again.” A sheen of sweat immediately covered Remus’s face, and he felt his heart racing.

“Moony, calm down.” Sirius placed his palm on Remus’s cheek. “I know goblin laws, and I know goblin minds. There’s a lot of money in the Black vault, money that’s just been sitting. Without me, they can’t play with it. Not to mention James - no, _ Harry’s _ vaults.”

Remus stared at him blankly. His family had never been well-off and his knowledge of Gringotts was limited to exchanging small amounts of galleons for pounds, just to get him by. 

“The UK branch of Gringotts trades with other international branches, they also invest on the Muggle exchanges and with other species. Readyally, galleons makes all that easier. The Black and Potter family vaults are both stuffed full. Plus I’d invested Uncle Alphard’s money carefully, and it’s grown quite well. When mother died, my vault and the family vault combined.”

“So they don’t care that you are a convict,” Remus surmised. “Because you are the sole controller of the Black fortune, even if you resided in Azkaban.”

“Precisely,” Sirius replied. “Plus as Harry’s guardian, I’m the executor of the Potter vault. Lily had forms filled with the Goblins in Geneva.” Sirius smiled at Remus. “Goblins are very particular, but very loyal to money.”

“You were all very thorough,” Remus said finally. “I had no idea.”

Sirius’s smile slipped. “You should have had access to everything Moony,” he said, gripping Remus’s hand. “The werewolf limitation laws were passed after I went to Azkaban, and they were specifically written for goblin compliance. I had no idea those would ever be passed. Never thought the Wizengamot would actually lower themselves to talk with a subspecies.” There’s a grimace on his face.

“You planned for Lily and James’s death.” Remus’s voice is barely above a whisper. 

“I planned for everyone’s death, Remus,” Sirius exclaimed. “James, Lily, you. I wrote Caradoc’s will. Hell, I’d-I’d helped Peter.” His voice breaks at the end of that. They gripped each other’s hands tightly. “His mum got everything, right, including the flat’s contents?”

Remus nodded. “Helped get everything there myself, though she didn’t want to see me.”

There’s silence for a few moments. “Is she alive?” he asked finally.

“Yes,” Remus said. “As far as I know.” 

“They were so attached, after Pete’s dad died.” It was the first time Sirius had ever said his name, not Peter or Wormtail, but Pete as he had been in their memories. There was a spasm in Sirius’s face. “I’m sure the contents of our flat were dumped in the trash heap.” His voice was low and angry, and his grip was now too tight.

“Packed up, actually. It’d been trashed, then bagged by the time I made it there.” Remus could still smell the angry magic that permeated their apartment, broken glass crunching under his feet as he made his way to their bedroom. He’d sat on the overturned bed, staring at a painting Evelyn Mansby had made as a housewarming gift. A huge gryffin, outspread wings, with rolling fields beneath. Evelyn was still alive as far as Remus knew, she’d kept in touch over the years with letters. The painting was wrapped in his parent’s home, something Remus couldn’t let go of. 

Sirius had still said nothing, his hand still in Remus’s, but Remushe knew he was out of luck. Sirius calm for this many hours, talking about the past, was a near miracle, and the explosion was about to come. “I should write her,” he murmured as Sirius gave out a giant roar, and threw himself out of bed and out the door. He slipped a robe on, and trailed Sirius up the stairs as he threw things, small things, large things, shiny things, things that likely were full of Dark Magic. Remus waved his wand calmly, and cleaned with efficiency as Sirius raged.


	2. Chapter 2

Bill arrived that afternoon. He was tall, lean and had a mop of red hair announcing him as a Weasley. Remus was content to stand back and watch as the man leaned down to kiss his mother, and allowed her to coddle him without a single grimace. He was impressed with the fortitude. Sirius was still upstairs, ostensibly cleaning his mother’s room, but by the lack of noise, or fire, Remus assumed he was more likely brooding. Bill was shaking his father’s hand heartily, after a manly hug, when he finally looked around the rest of the room. His eyes lit on Remus, and a bright smile breaks across his face.

“You must be Professor Lupin,” he said, stretching his hand out.

Remus accepted it easily. “Not quite Professor anymore, Remus will do.” He pulled his hand back as he watched Molly sidle next to Bill and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Remus, of course. Though for having both the twins and Percy’s respect, I believe you have earned a professorship for life.”

Remus laughed. “You Weasleys are definitely a handful.” His eyes darted to Molly’s, whose face was still turned to her son. “It looks like your mother has grand plans to fatten you up, so I will leave--”

Bill cut him off. “Nonsense. If we are barging into your home, the least we can do is have pleasant conversation.” At Remus’s discomfited look, he added, “You wrangled Fred and George, gained Percy’s respect, pulled Ginny out of her shell, and knocked something into Ron’s skull. Charlie and I decided that we are disappointed you weren’t there when we were.” Remus was surprised to hear Arthur’s chuckle. ”Don’t forget the hero worship,” he added. “Ron acts like you are out of one of his comic books.”

Molly gave Remus a bright smile, and Remus felt that only he could detect the artifice in the corners. “Of course, Remus, join us for tea.” She bustled down in front of them, whipping her wand out as soon as she stepped into the kitchen, tea-kettle whistling. She shooed them over to the long table in the gallery off the kitchen, and the three men sat down nearest to the door. 

“Where are you coming in from?” Remus asked as Bill settled into his seat.

“Cairo,” Bill replied, flopping back. His long hair was falling out of its tie, and he let it loose, running his fingers through. “Bloody hot, frankly disappointed we aren’t having a terrible rainy English summer.”

“Don’t give up hope yet,” Arthur quipped with a smile.

Looking at them sitting together, Remus was struck by how very similar they were, in their lounging positions. “Happy to be back?” he asked. Tea cups were zooming their way, and a plate of scones clattered onto the table with a container of fresh jam. 

“Very much so.” Bill grabbed a scone, and while breaking it in half, a small plate came whizzing under his hands

“Table manners,” Molly’s voice rang from the kitchen. Bill and Arthur mouthed the words together as another plate came shooting out. Arthur grabbed the plate easily and deposited a scone onto it. “Thank you, Molly dear!”

At Remus’s polite smile, Bill continued. “There’s a lot going on, and it seemed that looking for historical artifacts in Egypt was hiding more than an adventure. I wanted to do some good.”

“And though we are obviously concerned, we are happy to have our son home,” Molly inserted as she sailed into the room, two plates in her hand.

“I knew you would wait, Remus,” she said with a smile, handing him one of the china plates. 

There was a large scoop of fresh cream next to a crumpet. Remus recognized a friendly gesture for what it is, and smiled gratefully at her as she settled on Bill’s other side.

“I have to contribute Mum. What else is there to be done?”

“Possibly saving your skin, and that of your extended family,” a voice answered dryly from behind Remus. Remus wanted to smack himself in the head. He never should have sat with his back to the door, and by the expression on Bill’s face, Sirius has managed to make his usual grandiose entrance.

“Are those crumpets, Molly? With clotted cream, they look lovely.” Sirius’s voice was calm and modulated, so Remus can already imagine what he looked like. 

It was worse. His hair was mangled, with dust balls running through it, something that looked like grease smeared on his face, and clothes that were gray. His hands, at least, were clean. 

He nodded calmly at Bill. “You must be the eldest of the Weasley brood, pleasure to meet you.”

To Remus’s surprise, Bill extended his hand easily, a large smile on his face. “Bill Weasley. And we’ve met before.”

Sirius stops in his perusal of the clotted cream to study Bill’s face as he shakes his hand. “We have?”

“You looked very similar actually,” Bill sai with a laugh. “My Uncle Fabian brought me by your flat, and you were working on your bike. Actually,” and here he turned to Remus, “it was your flat as well, right? I remember wanting to read the books on the shelf, there was one on pixies that Uncle Fab snatched from my hands.”

“Oh Moony, Pixelating for Pixies.” There was a chuckle radiating in Sirius’s voice as he plopped into a seat next to Remus. “Sirius Black,” he intoned with a regal nod to Bill. “I think I remember you as a sprite, excited about everything. Squeaky voice?”

“Probably, “ Bill replied. “Uncle Fabian was the epitome of cool, and I was so excited to meet his friends. Though I’m what, only 10 years younger than you?”

“Something like that,” Remus said, easing back into his seat. 

Molly had been quiet through the exchange, but now spoke. “You knew Fabian?” she asked quietly, her eyes shining.

“Quite well,” Sirius said. Remus wasn’t sure if he was about to tell the tale of Fabian taking them to a strip bar, or worse, but all Sirius said was, “He had the same affinity for Muggle things that I do.”

Arthur laughed. “Yes, but he always liked the things that made Molly’s hair curl.” 

Remus was surprised when Molly’s rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Always into something, that Fabian. And Gideon, just behind, sweeping up his messes and egging him on.”

“Much like the twins,” Bill inserted. He slid an arm up and around his mother’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

Sirius’s hand was now in Remus’s lap, and they laced their fingers together. “If - uh, if the ministry ever gives me back any of my things, I think that I have some albums of Gid’s.”

“I got those actually.”

Sirius turned to Remus in surprise. “What?”

“MLE called them Muggle rubbish, left them in a heap. Took the lot of them, wrapped them up. I knew you had a signed Stones album.”

“Stones,” Arthur enquired. “Is that a form of musical instrument the Muggles use?”

“No Dad,” Bill said with a smirk. “A band.”

“Fabian loved to get in trouble, but Gideon, he loved music. Sang in the choir at Hogwarts.” Molly rubbed her eyes. “He had a beautiful voice.”

“Fab’s tastes tended to run to angry punk, but Gideon shared a love of rock with us. He’d play Pink Floyd albums while we’d all sit around. Ha, James high as a kite dancing with Lily in that field when Muggles found us in Weymouth. Just joined right in.” Remus can remember the hazy day, the smell of the weed they’d bought from some dealer, the record player Gideon had fixed with magic to play records without a plug. The Muggles had been so stoned, they didn’t even seem surprised. 

“It was a great weekend,” he said finally. Molly’s face is the kindest it has been since they moved in, smiling at them as benevolently as she’d been looking at Bill earlier.

“I forget sometimes,” she said softly, “how young you two really are. Gideon and Fabian were my baby brothers, and they graduated before you, right?”

“Gid was 3 years ahead, Fab two.” Sirius’s voice was light, but curdling around the edges. 

Remus held his hand tightly, begging him to reign in his temper. His fingers quivered, rage seeping out of them, before he grasped Remus back, letting the pads slip over his nail beds. “It’s like Minnie said, all too old, and all too young.”

“Hear, hear,” Bill said, and raised his tea cup. Everyone else did in solemnity, and there was quiet clicking in the air.

After slurping from his cup, Sirius pasted on a smile. “So what exactly do you do for Gringotts?”

Bill launched into an exuberant rendition of his most recent exploits, complete with body motions, and Sirius was engrossed, his face lit with laughter. Remus kept their fingers linked, but leaned back, grasping for his tea cup.

“I’m terribly jealous,” Molly said quietly, almost under her breath.

“I’m sorry?” Remus asked, glancing towards her. Her eyes were following Bill’s movements as he careened around the side of the table, showing the movements required to get away from a goblin mummy. Arthur’s ears were red, and he was wiping tears from his eyes.

“We had Bill young, and even with all the others, there’s just something about his presence. I crave it, but have always shared it.”

Remus was surprised by the admission. He didn’t know what to say, and just made a soft humming noise.

“It's not fair, I love all my children. But I was rude when he arrived, and truly unforgivably rude yesterday.” Her eyes turned to Remus, and he recognized the exhaustion in them. “I wanted him home, but as Sirius pointed out, how can anyone want their children home right now. It's selfish. And in my own frustration, I took something out on Sirius.”

Remus pondered this for a moment. She was staring at him, and her eyes were wet. She brushed them lightly, and went back to watching Bill. Sirius’s fingers had slipped from Remus’s hand, as he responded with his own goblin stories. Bill’s face was turning as red as Arthur’s ears, and he pounded once on the table, laughing. “I understand the desire for family time, Molly,” he said finally, gracing her with a small smile. “We both recognize that you being here is a favor to us as much as helping the Order.” Molly’s smile was tremulous, and she reached out to pat Remus’s hand. “That said,” he added with a touch of ice to his voice, “What was said yesterday is something you need to talk to Sirius about.” He could still feel the burn of anger at Molly’s words, and her lips pinching fanned the flame higher. “It was unconscionable.”

She turned away, strands of hair blocking her face. Bill was back in his seat, slurping from a tea cup now. “Remus, is he really telling the truth?” he called out.

“About what,” Remus responded, focusing on Bill’s face. His eyes were lit with laughter, and his face was flush.

“Goblin streaking in Diagon Alley?”

“Moony never liked our more, how did he say it, 'infantile' pranks,” Sirius replied, arm stretching out behind Remus’s back. He’d pulled his hair up in the last few minutes, and already looked less like a crazed Azkaban escapee with the genuine smile in his eyes.

“Yes, because riding arse naked on a broomstick really consists of either mature or a prank.” At Sirius opening his mouth in displeasure, he tutted. “No Padfoot, we’ve discussed this. No cleverness means that it is not a prank.”

Sirius rolled his eyes in response. There’s a lull in the conversation, and Remus studiously avoided looking at Molly. 

“Padfoot?” Bill asked suddenly. “Is that a nickname?”

“Schoolboy,” Sirius responded with a slight smile. “Things you think of on lazy September days at Hogwarts.”

“I remember Uncle Gid calling someone that, didn’t realize it was you.” There was a weird curve to his lips, a suppressed smirk.

“Called him a dog, did he?” Remus asked wryly. “He’d be accurate, Sirius’s reputation was one to behold.”

“Alleged, Remus. You know I’ve been moonstruck for years.”

Remus knew his role, to roll his eyes at the stupid pun Sirius had made thousands of times over the years, but instead he was both equally elated and uncomfortable. Elated that Sirius still made jokes like this, the words flowing off his tongue as easily as they always have. But horrified, because it's as if he’s made a proclamation, loud and clear. 

Molly’s eyes were connected to Arthur’s, a silent conversation playing. But it was Bill who broke the silence easily, “Always thought your apartment was the homiest non-grownup place I’d ever been. Been a bit of a goal for me.”

Remus tried to smile, but it was Sirius who shot Bill a full on grin. “I don’t share, Billy boy. But, we will let you use our library.” Bill laughed in response. 

Molly was quick to clean up the rest of their tea, carrying it to the kitchen. There was clattering, and underneath that, muttering, which got everyone else moving. Bill headed towards the noise, bravely in Remus’s estimation. Arthur turned towards the fireplace, explaining he was rounding up the rest of the brood to bring over. Remus waved him on, then followed Sirius up the flights of stairs to his parent’s bedrooms. The master suite was large, covering the entirety of the fourth floor. There was a large sitting area with bedrooms, dressing rooms and a bathroom leading off. The room was dusty, and dark. Sirius was frozen in the doorway, and Remus took it upon himself to walk across the hall and tear open the heavy brocade curtains. A shower of dust poured down, and the curtains snapped shut. An angry little huffing noise came from the corner. Remus sighs in frustration. 

“We just want to clean up your mistress’s things, Kreacher.” The wretched little elf came out from the shadows ringing his hands.

“Filthy mongrel, touching my mistress’s things. Kreacher won’t allow it, Kreacher won’t.” His gnarled fingers were reaching up towards the curtains, likely to put a spell on to lock the curtains in place, when Sirius’s voice cut through

“Kreacher, stop!” Kreacher’s hands stopped automatically, but he continued to mutter filthy platitudes. 

“You will open these curtains and allow Remus to clean. Furthermore you will remember that I am master of this household and as my partner, unless against direct orders from me, you must listen to Remus!”

Kreacher looked wretchedly at Sirius, his eyes twitching. “Kreacher will not, Kreacher will not!” His bullfrog voice reached a crescendo, and the elf looked near tears.

The rage in Sirius’s face was cutting, and Remus pulled back, not wanting to be directly in his line of sight. With a roar, Sirius ripped down the curtains closest to him, and threw them at Kreacher, burying him. Sunlight poured into the room, dancing on the dust motes in the air.

“You will listen to Remus and you will stop your fucking diatribes at once!” His voice ripped out, and Kreacher was silent beneath the brocade, thought obviously still struggling. With a whip, the curtains suddenly whirlpooled up, before settling into a neatly foldedfold pile at Kreacher’s feet.

“Will there be anything more Master, master’s partner” he asked oilily with a little bow in both their directions. 

Sirius huffed, driving his fingers through his forehead. “I’m going to the downstairs parlor to clean,” he snapped, before turning and storming from the room.

Kreacher and Remus watched him go, before warily turning to each other. Remus studied Kreacher as he glared back, hate glittering in his huge yellow eyes. Finally, Remus said, “If you actually clean this floor, to what it was when Master Sirius still lived here, you can keep whatever you’d like from here in your room.”

There was a moment where Remus didn’t think Kreacher would take the deal, his eyes filling with rage, his hand gripped in fury. He seemed to calm though and eventually nodded, before Apparating away. Remus could hear him over in what was once Orion Black’s bedroom and the general clashing gave him hope some sort of cleaning was ongoing.

Remus knew he’d made a deal with a devil, miniature though he may be, and for a moment felt guilty. The windows suddenly swiped clean, and the sparkling sunlight reflected on his face in the tarnished mirror. His face was distorted, gray and swirled. But Remus could see his own eyes, the wolfish qualities, the exhaustion and surprisingly the contentedness. He hated to admit it, but despite this Sirius being unrecognizable at times, the anger, the brashness, the inability to behave in any way that a sensible adult would, were all Black hallmarks. Remus could think of dozens of times in the years after Hogwarts when Sirius would rage around their flat (or the Potter’s home, or a pub) while he and James nursed a lager and made bets on what he’d break next. Prongs was freakishly good at this, able to call Sirius’s next move with an alacrity that bordered on the absurd. Remus remembered feeling a bite of jealousy at the way the two seemed to exist in some sort of hive mind. Except in sex, except in their bedroom, there was always some part of him that felt like an interloper in the Padfoot/Prongs phenomena. Lily had confessed the same, weeks before Harry’s birth, pregnant and exhausted, while Sirius and James were off on a mission. They’d sat next to each other on the kitchen floor, eating ice cream straight from the tub. Lily’d told him that they were in fact extraneous, sex in the grand “soulmance” that Sirius and James shared. She’d seemed resigned to it, accepting of her fate. Remus admired her fortitude then, her recognition of their relationship and her own place in it. Remus had been a supportive ear through the night, but unwilling to apply her lessons to himself. He and Sirius, they were a fling. They weren’t going to settle down, buy a house, have a kid. Remus’s very-much working class roots enforced that his “lifestyle” couldn’t lead to the domestic normality that would give a firmer place in Sirius’s world. 

It was different now. Remus recognized that the mirror he was staring into was tarnished because it was made of pure silver, likely wrought by goblins. The drapes laying in a moth eaten heap by the windows were made of heavy silk, likely flobberworm spun. There was a time when this would have been beyond Remus, as he minced between the fine things that Sirius had so easily strewn to the ground. Now though, it’s as if the grit that Sirius always tried to rub into his skin in their youth had finally managed to stick. Or maybe it’s simply the true mad nature of a Black wending its way out from behind glamour. Remus shook his head to clear his thoughts and returned to the task at hand. Obsessing over the why’s of Sirius’s behavior had always been futile. That’s what the lager was for.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

The brood, as Arthur called them, arrived in a raucous jumble later that evening. Sirius had actually managed to clean a large swathe of the parlor, and given the nearing kindness in Molly’s eyes, it was possible they’d somewhat patched up the fight from the day before. Remus recognized that Sirius wanted to forgive Molly, mainly because Sirius did blame himself for not being there more for Harry. It was this that almost hardened Remus towards her more, especially watching as she hovered, her hands fluttering about as the rest of the Weasleys introduced themselves.

Sirius was fairly calm throughout, giving Ron a hearty shake before greeting the others. He grabbed Ginny’s hand and placed a gallant kiss on the back, causing her to giggle. Molly’s face turned a sort of puce color, and Remus knew he was needed.

“How are the hols,” he asked, his voice deliberately bland. The twins turned to him, with large grins.

“Professor Lupin, the best of professors.” Fred gave him a grandiose bow, wiggling his nose as he straightened.

George pushed him lightly out of the way before extending his hand. Remus shook it easily as George smiled. “You know that my brother and I are using it to be tremendously studious, of course.”

Remus allowed his eyes to roll, and was rewarded with a loud chuckle not only from the twins but from Ron and Ginny as well. Ginny gave a shy wave, and then turned to follow her mother who was calling out about dinner as she marched down the stairs. The twins followed quickly behind, but Ron lingered.

“How are things, Sir?” There’s a weight to the question, and Remus is saddened to see how much older Ron’s eyes have gotten in just the last year.

“That’s a question for your parents,” Sirius said quietly. He placed his hand on Ron’s shoulder and began navigating him towards the stairs. “But we could have a lively discussion about your hinkypunk skills instead.” At Ron’s questioning look, he smiled. “There’s one living in the bathroom on the 5th floor.”

“Aren’t those only in large waters with lots of foliage?”

Sirius chortled, and looked at Remus over his shoulder. “See Moons, you were the best teacher. Still remembers his dark creatures.”

They had landed in the dining room by then, and Bill looked up from his seat. There was clearly a spot left for Ron on Ginny’s left, but Remus could see that he and Sirius have been relegated to the far end of the table. “Moons?” Bill asked. 

Sirius shrugged lightly as he pulled a seat out for Remus before settling down next to him, his arm thrown over the chair. “Those balmy September days,” he said with a wink.

“Padfoot and Moons. I definitely think the story there will be worth it,” Bill replied smiling. Remus was uncomfortable at Bill’s easy bantering with them, the age gap so insurmountable between his parents and his younger siblings easier with him. He also exuded a warm charisma, calm like Arthur but with something else that allowed Sirius to just be. Remus was both jealous and appreciative all at once. Perhaps he could understand Molly’s desire to be in her golden eldest child’s presence. “Possibly if I brought some good wine from Egypt,” Bill added with a wink when Remus reentered the conversation. 

“Make it whisky and you have a deal,” Sirius replied. One of the twins made a large gulping noise, and they all turned to look. Fred looked like he was actively choking and George was pounding on his back. There’s a flurry of motion from Molly, and then Fred is gasping for air, his face nearly as red as his hair.

“You’ve forgotten how to swallow,” Ron asked thickly around a bite of potatoes. The group gave a laugh, and Remus took it as a signal to serve both himself and Sirius. Fred was still making weird hand motions, but the other Weasley’s seemed unconcerned. 

“Pad-_ cough _-foot!?” Fred finally managed to get out, and George immediately sat up. Both of their eyes trained back to Sirius before turning to Bill.

“Did you call Sirius Black ‘Padfoot’?” George’s voice came out as a squeak, and Bill looked at him oddly. Remus was equally confused, the boys had seemed totally fine with Sirius moments before, but were now staring at Sirius, mouths open, eyes wide.

“It was a school-boy nickname that stuck,” Sirius said quietly, keeping his voice calm. Remus was impressed, Sirius was obviously attempting to not scare the boys, which was more than he had given to Bill. Maybe he and Molly really had patched things up.

“You’re _ the _ Padfoot,” Fred said, still staring, his mouth slightly open.

At Sirius’s confused look, George supplied, “Of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.”

Remus was dumbstruck for a moment, he hadn’t heard those names in that order in years. Said together with that perfect cadence. He could almost hear James and Peter arguing over the order, until Sirius had angrily scrawled their names across the top in permanent ink. Peter had been so excited to be second he hadn’t muttered another word. 

“Oh yeah,” Ron said roughly, and he put his fork down lightly. “Sirius and Professor Lupin made the map, with Harry’s dad.”

There’s a dead silence at the table, Arthur, Molly and Bill looking obviously confused, Ginny starring with curiosity. The twins stared at Ron for a long moment before they lunged, both smacking him hard over the head at the same time.

“BOYS,” Molly roared, but she could barely be heard over the angry noises that Fred and George were making. “You ruddy arse, how could you not tell us, we could have been prepared, should have been prepared, damn fool!”

They’ve stepped away from the table synchronously now, and were standing in front of Sirius and Remus. Remus glanced at Sirius, and was surprised to see the genuine humor on his face.

“I take it you boys are the ones who gave Harry the map,” Sirius asked.

In response the two boys dropped to the ground and began to genuflect enthusiastically while murmuring, “We are not worthy.”

Bill burst out laughing. “What the bloody hell are you two doing?”

“Language, William,” Molly snapped. “Get off the floor you two, what are you _ doing _?” Her voice was piercing at the end and it seemed to break the twins reverie. They both shook Remus then Sirius’s hands enthusiastically, before seating themselves back down.

“We don’t” Fred started

“Get to meet actual legends.” George finished, grinning

“You’ve taught us so much,” Fred added loudly. “None of our pranks would be what they are without you!”

Molly was now looking at Sirius and Remus like she had been looking at the twins, and Remus desperately wanted to roll his eyes at the utter ridiculousness surrounding him.

“I think,” Arthur broke in quietly, though his voice was laced with amusement, “that something of an explanation is in order.”

The twins looked like they were about to burst into song, so Remus was happy when Ron’s voice cut in. “There’s this map of Hogwarts, and it’s the best map ever. Fred and George found it years ago, and it turns out Sirius, Professor Lupin and Harry’s dad made it when they were at school. It’s really useful for pranks.” Ron paused, and looked thoughtful. “Really just good for sneaking around in general.”

George closed his eyes and shook his head, while Fred sputtered angrily. “Good for pranks,” he yelled incredulously.

Molly and Arthur still look confused, even if a dawning understanding is coming to Bill’s face. “We made a map of Hogwarts as school boys, that was confiscated and apparently made its way into your sons’ hands. It was an effort by a bunch of boys with too much brains and time.” Remus finished the sentence quietly, realizing it sounded like boasting at the end.

“So the magical map that has all the entrances at Hogwarts isn’t an urban legend,” Bill asked.

“No it is not,” Fred replied, finally seeming to settle. “It’s the best piece of magic ever!”

“And where is this map,” Molly asked, looking as if she too was beginning to calm.

“With Harry,” Sirius responded. “Which is nice, as the eldest, and likely only of our kids, he was meant to inherit it.” He let out a little snort, and leaned in slightly to Remus. “It's actually listed in the will.”

At the pursing of Molly’s lips, Remus gave a little sigh. “In all honesty, it was actually a fairly impressive piece of magic. I’m glad Harry has it.” Molly made no response, focusing on her plate. 

“It popped up when I was in school,” Bill said, as the table began to eat. “Sally Cromwell mentioned it once when we lost a firstie my third year. Said her sister - Margot I think - had talked about one. Everyone went crazy looking for it, but I don’t think it was found.”

Sirius let out a little snort. “Margot Cromwell, really?” He darted his eyes to Remus, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You were an utterly disgraceful arse then, and you continue to be,” Remus said primly, taking a sip from his goblet. Sirius winked in response.

“Another story I take it,” Bill asked. Unlike the rabid interest that made up his siblings faces (though Ron’s seemed to be focused on his plate), Bill’s face was still a laughing calm.

“Margo had a raging crush on Remus, used to rhapsodize over his soulful eyes,” Sirius said with a chortle. “Poor Moony had to constantly redirect her as she followed him around with big eyes. Remember the pigtails?”

In all honesty, Remus _ couldn’t _ remember the pigtails. Margot had been a second year his seventh, and followed him around with unwavering loyalty. He can’t quite picture her now, only that he’d tried to be kind, but finding out that this group of girls had an actual Marauder fan club was a bit too much. He remembers less about her, and more about keeping the others from the collective egos of Padfoot and Prongs. 

He was surprised that Sirius remembered her though, and raises an eyebrow. Both Sirius and James had taken almost a perverse pleasure in taking the mickey out of him, though to be fair, it was only done in the privacy of their dorm room.

At Remus’s silence, Sirius let out another deep rumbling laugh. His fingers pressed into Remus’s shoulder, exerting the slightest bit of pressure. It grounded Remus, reminds him that this laughing man is indeed his Sirius. “I’m glad to know our legend lived on,” Sirius said finally, and took a gulp of drink.

“Which one of you did the part that follows the staircases,” Ron asked around another bite potatoes. “Hermione wants to ask about that, she can’t find the charm.”

“I wrote it,” Sirius replied calmly. 

“You wrote it,” Arthur asked surprised. The twins were still whispering between themselves, but they sat up at the tone of their father’s voice.

“Is that a big deal,” Ginny asked, head tilted looking at her father.

“Honestly,” Bill said, rolling his eyes slightly. “Have any of you actually stayed awake in a History of Magic?”

“No.” Ron said bluntly. 

Remus snorted. “Yes, Professor Binns was never a particularly enthusiastic speaker.”

“But he was a wealth of knowledge,” Arthur replied. “And to answer your question Ginny, if what Sirius is saying is that he wrote the basis of a charm, instead of modifying another, then yes it is a big deal.” His eyes turned to Sirius, full of curiosity.

“I wrote it,” Sirius said again. His voice has lost some of its careful modulation, and Remus could tell that he was struggling, to both be approachable and calm. Heaven knows what was actually playing in his head. They’d reached that point in the evening, in the conversation really, where Sirius had to remember too much. Or really to remember anything at all. He couldn joke about lazy September mornings, but Remus knew even the thought of Hogwarts breaks part of him, remembering the boys they used to be, the men they ended up becoming. He hoped Sirius wouldn’t break the china, they’d already gone through two sets in the early days of moving into Grimmauld Place. 

“We wrote a lot of the more interesting spells,” Remus said, smiling. He could feel his professorial voice coming on. His fingers, however, were digging into Sirius’s thigh, finding the muscle that always gives him twinges. He massaged it carefully, all the while with a placid smile on his face. “It usually guaranteed more...surprise.”

The twins broke out in equal maniacal grins. “We’ve written some of our things,” Fred said. 

“Mainly, we’ve mixed Transfiguration spells, but have tried our hand at adding in some charms to work in a timed manner.” Sirius continued to sit, eating in an almost thoughtless manner, bite after bite into his mouth. The conversation resumed around them, and Remus continued to rub, his face struggling to remain bland. Arthur and Bill had entered the conversation, discussing the particulars of magical theory, but Molly was watching Sirius eat, a crinkle in her brow. 

“You need a good grasp of Arithmancy,” Bill said. “It’s the basic formula for everything,” he explained, looking at Ginny. The twins were nodding along, in rapt attention. Bill had something of his own professorial voice, as he began to explain the intricacies of basic numerology. 

“You need more than that,” Sirius broke in, with a gravelly voice. His arm was still on Remus’s chair, but his fingers were grasping his neck almost to the point of pain. Remus dug his thumb in further, and Sirius relaxed his grip slightly. “You need an understanding of all the basics, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions. A good grasp on Herbology to link spells to the earth, and Arithmancy and Runes to get to their base. But then you need to know History of Magic to be able to recognize where others have gone wrong, and also if what you are doing is, strictly put, legal.” His voice was settling out, though his grip was still tight, and Remus rubbed his thigh in a softer manner. “Plus, all of these spells have to consider the movement of the stars.”

Fred and George’s eyes had gotten exponentially larger, staring at Sirius with a new level of awe. “You did all of that?” George asked, with somewhat of a surprise.

“Nah,” Sirius let out a wink, half-hearted at best, but still there. “I supplied the most important component, a knack for nefarious deeds.” The table laughed, and Sirius leaned back in his seat. His arm dropped down to his lap, and Remus interlaced their fingers, so proud of him.

“Remy and Jamie did most of the work,” he finished.

“Nonsense,” Remus said, trying to talk through the tears that suddenly clogged his voice. Remy and Jamie, the pet names Sirius called them while drunk and particularly affectionate. The names that usually ended a crazed Black rant, when he finally picked up his own lager. “It’s a first, but he’s being modest. He and James did a lot of the Arithmancy in the back of their divination book.”

“No one looks in a divination book,” Sirius said, and Remus’s heart broke a little. That had been Peter’s line, as he placed the book back into his bag, the least likely of the Marauders to have his things checked. Sirius gripped his fingers tightly, breathing through his nose, before shaking his head like the large dog he turned into. He cleared his throat. “Thank you very much for dinner, Molly.” 

Molly had been quiet through most of the conversation, but she was looking at Sirius with something different in her eyes. “Of course, Sirius. My pleasure.” She paused for a moment, then asked, “Excuse my curiosity,” and here Remus wanted to make a noise but refrained, “but what were you planning to do with your life?” 

“Pardon,” Sirius asked. He was standing, a clatter of chairs and plates. 

“What were your career plans before the war,” Arthur asked quietly. Both he and Molly, along with Bill were looking at Sirius in almost the same way the twins had earlier. 

“Barrister. Joint Muggle-wizarding affairs. I was in the program at Edinburgh. Put it off as things got uglier.”

“The Muggle uni degree,” Bill asked surprised. “The one that needs like 10 NEWTs and they only take a student every decade?”

Sirius had made his way to the door, and nodded as he walked out. “That’s the one.” Without another word, he began to make his way up the stairs, the creaking slowly echoing down.

There was silence at the table for a long moment. “Okay, explain!” Fred exclaimed staring at his parents.

Arthur answered. “It’s a combined program after Hogwarts, for Mugglewizarding relations, where you get a Muggle degree and then another as a Muggle Wizengamot. Its very selective, and only available to those who would put wizards’ best face on. It’s meant to bridge Muggle and wizarding relations, by studying legalities. There hasn’t been one in a number of years.”

“It was the ultimate rebellion.” Remus smiled around at the table. “You’ve seen this house. For their scion to prove himself to be the most academically adept, the most socially graceful and then use it all to push Muggle-wizarding relations? It was an insult of the highest order. I think his bat of a mother lost what was left of her mind with that.”

“It’s impressive,” Molly said. “One you boys would best emulate.” The tone of her voice seems to brook no further questions as she hefted herself from her seat. She lifted her and Arthur’s dishes and began moving towards the kitchen.

“You want us to be like the greatest pranksters in the history of Hogwarts,” Fred asked incredulously.

“I want you to put an ounce of the effort it sounds like Sirius put into his school work,” Molly replied. She whipped her wand around, and the dishes all rose to follow her in a neat row. “I can tell you, no one who was in that program had just 5 OWLs.”

Fred and George looked crestfallen for a moment, and looked at each other.

“Sirius and James were creatures unto themselves,” Remus said, smiling at the twins. “Too much time, and in ways, too much brains. You two have your own brand.” He stood as well, and smiled down at the group. “Please stay up and have a look around, but be careful. Most of the house is still infested with dark objects and magic.”

He turned to Arthur. “I’m going to retire to the library, please let me know if you need anything at all.”

There was a clattering behind him as he went to the door, as if someone tried to get up and was shoved forcefully back into their seat. He didn’t care. He moved up the stairs at much the same pace Sirius had moments before, aware that in so many ways, he was no better. Weighed down with guilt, and anger, and an inability to remember without pain. His musings led him past the giant portrait of Walburga Black, blissfully silent and into the large library. 

The fire was burning, and Sirius was stretched on the couch, his feet propped on a tufted futon. It suspiciously looked like it was made of Niffler hair. Remus was unsure what he would be reading and was surprised to see an aged paperback version of _ Hamlet _, the lettering faded on the cover.

“Underneath my bed,” Sirius supplied. “Apparently no one found the library I had hidden in the bed frame.”

Remus laughed. “Did you hide them with those shelves Andrew used to make?”

“What better way to hide things than the Muggle way in this household,” Sirius rejoindered, stretching his toes. 

Remus was unsure for a moment of his role, of Sirius’s mood, of everything in this room. Sirius was pushing strands from his face though, his tongue poking out to touch a finger, and Remus _ knew _. In a way he had refused himself for a long time, but came with more clarity each day. He snagged the books he’d been reading, a lengthy tome on the origins of blood magic, and sat down next to Sirius. With a practiced movement, he slid under Sirius’s arm, and laid down, his own feet hanging over the edge of the couch. Sirius’s palm slid along Remus before laying on his stomach, the heel pressed into the place where his ribs end. 

As if he can hear Sirius’s question, he says quietly, “Xiphoid process.” 

Sirius huffed a breath out, and quietly said “Muggle science,” with a shake of his head. Remus allowed his eyes to close, the weight of the book in his lap, the tempo of Sirius’s hand, giving him more peace than he could remember. He knew that he was to be the support for Sirius, to help him navigate the waters back to himself, to sanity. But he couldn’t help but steal these moments for himself instead. 

*******  
  


The morning was quiet, and Remus returned slowly to Grimmauld Place, a bag of warm pastries in his hand. He knew Molly and Arthur were up late the night before, heard their murmured voices through the doors as he and Sirius made their silent voyage to their room late in the night. They’d made love, quietly, almost like they had in the middle after it was new but before it all became so fraught and unknown. Their own halcyon days. Sirius had slept peacefully afterwards and surprisingly into the morning, allowing Remus to run out. There was something so normal in a pastry run, and the knowledge of their financial situation being significantly better than before made it easier to grab anything that might tempt his mate’s taste. Once inside, he could hear a general bustle from below, and moved to the kitchen. Everyone was sitting around the large dining table, in various states of undress.

“I bought pastries,” he cried jovially, and there was a general interest from the group as hands reached out to take the bags from him. 

“Are there any danishes,” Sirius asks, reaching into a bag with avid interest. 

Fred reached out and snatches the one Ron was rapidly moving to his mouth. “Here you are, Sirius, sir,” he said, ignoring Ron’s indignant squawk.

“Boys, let Remus and Sirius get what they want before imposing on their hospitality.” Molly was laying the makings of porridge out on the table, and as he watched, a tray of hot buns emerged from the kitchen.

“Oh Molly, I’m sorry,” Remus said as he sat down and reached for the tea. “I’d hoped to be home with food before you started cooking.”

“Nonsense, Remus,” Molly said with a smile, retrieving a pastry from the bag. Her eyes lit in anticipation. “There’s never enough food with this lot.”

As if to prove her point, Bill shoved George lightly and grabbed the first bun, bouncing it between his fingers. “To be fair, Mum,” he said around a large bite, “this really isn’t a good fight unless you get Charlie and Ron going.”

Ginny chortled. “The great pudding escapade of ‘92,” she said with a smile. “I still don’t know how you got the blackberry out of the ceiling.”

“Magic,” Bill replied drolly, and snatched another bun from under Fred’s hand, only to have George grab it from him.

“I promise, we didn’t raise them to be heathens,” Arthur added, pouring more tea in his cup.

“It’s Hogwarts,” Sirius said jovially leaning back. He’d consumed two danishes and had a look of contentment on his face. “The elves get a laugh out of watching us behave like heathens, only send small quantities of the good stuff up.” 

“It was key to get down there after the Halloween feast,” Bill said smiling. “They made enough but were convinced the rich food wasn’t good for our “little human” stomachs. Best bread pudding on earth, with the pumpkin seeds. Never even saw it up above till 5th year.”

“Meringues,” Arthur added dreamily. “When I was there, one of the head elfs had originally lived with a french family. The lightest, tastiest meringues. I believe Slughorn used to have them made.”

“You snuck down to the kitchens, Dad,” Ginny asked, surprised.

“With his sweet tooth,” Molly said with a fond smile. “There was not another way to keep him fed. The Hufflepuffs must’ve thought we were spying, the number of times we were caught down there.”

“The ‘Puffs definitely use the kitchens plenty, have you ever seen the color scheme on the minicakes down there,” George asked. 

Ron nodded, his face full of food. “The bearclaws look more like badger claws too.”

“Does everyone sneak into the kitchens other than me,” Ginny asked incredulously.

“Well, Percy probably didn’t,” Fred said, a touch of frost in his voice. “But yes, otherwise, everyone else does.”

Remus smiled, and allowed the voices to wash over him. Sirius was again engaged in conversation with Arthur and Molly, but unlike the first few weeks here, they were talking of shared history instead of planning for upcoming war. Bill was affectionately squabbling with the twins while Ginny and Ron looked on, the latter fitting spoon after spoon of porridge into his mouth. 

“Savages, the lot of you,” he murmured settling into his seat. 

Ginny appeared to have heard him and turned to him with a smile. “They are, really,” she said fondly.

“So how were your hols,” Remus asked pleasantly, enjoying the familial camaraderie in the room. There’s an Order Meeting this evening, which means cleaning all day, before an inevitably shout-filled evening. Remus’s new goal was to embrace the good while he can.

“Great,” Ginny said brightly. “Did a lot of reading, for pleasure. And laying about. Hermione comes in today, so I’m sure she’ll quiz me on all I learned.”

“Probably be disappointed no one read as much as her,” Ron said in a tired voice. “I never read as much as she wants me to.” 

There was a note of futility in his voice that Remus did his best to appear sympathetic to, despite wanting to laugh. “Hermione seems like the sort of girl who no one can keep up with, Ron,” he said gently. He nodded his head lightly towards Sirius, who was now discussing Goblin laws with Bill, partially in Gobbledegook. “You learn your own strengths instead.”

Ron smiled gratefully. “Yeah, I guess I help her remember normal stuff.” He puffed up at this, and returned to his food, his eyes trailing the discussion his mum was having with Fred, George cackling next to him.

Ginny was prodding Bill’s shoulder, asking him to explain, while Arthur entered the fray of discussing legal matters with Sirius. Remus wanted to laugh. Say what you will of Sirius’s obsessive nature, but it allowed him to learn material at a depth only rivaled by the Potters, Lily with Charms and James with Transfiguration. The arguments (“Discussions Moony, we are intellectually discussing!”) he got into with Lily usually ended in sparks to the ceiling, Lily’s arms in the air. James was usually drinking lager with him in the corner, taking bets on who would break first. It was always Lily.

Bill’s voice was rising, his finger pointing down at the table, and Arthur was leaning back in his chair, a grin on his face. Sirius was still talking, something about fungibility and cost comfort analysis. For the first time, Bill resembled his mother, his face turning pink as he vehemently argued his point. “You can’t actually negotiate with goblins,” he said firmly. “It doesn’t matter what’s promised, they ignore the cost/benefit in lieu of thousand year old grudges!”

Sirius leaned back in his chair, that stupid smug smile on his face. Remus was ashamed to admit he missed that smile, employed only when using words to verbally reduce another person. “It’s all gold, Bill, simple gold. Who has it, and who can sell it. Why do you think the goblins put up with so much from the pureblood families? Gold.”

“They don’t negotiate,” Bill argued, pressing his hand into the desk as if it would prove a point. “Not if they feel there is something goblin to be gained.”

“And there-” Sirius tapped next to Bill’s finger, “is where you miss the point. The thing to be gained _ is the gold _. While they have some of their own, their joy comes from manipulating markets. They can’t do that without capital! Why do you think the crash in the ‘20s happened, happenstance? The goblins pulled out of Muggle markets to hold onto ready cash when the Wizengamot tried to push through legislation allowing for an all wizard bank.”

“Goblins only reinvested once the Muggle prime minister petitioned the Minister of Magic,” Ron supplied helpfully. “Grindelwald was gaining support, and the minister wanted to prop-up wizard-Muggle relations.”

Remus barely managed to suppress his laughter at Bill’s surprise, and the twins had turned to stare at Ron in surprise as well. Ron huffed angrily. “You trying being friends with Hermione for 4 years and see if you don’t complete the required reading!”

“No, that’s great,” Bill said warmly, smiling at him. “That’s fairly accurate, and Binns never gets to modern history.”

Ron smiled, his ears turning red. “It’s pretty interesting stuff, I bet more people would pay attention if he covered some of that too. Maybe comparing it to other things in history.” His voice trailed off uncomfortably, as Fred and George were now openly gaping at him. 

“There used to be a modern history course taught,” Sirius supplied. “More of an elective in your final years.” He patted Ron easily on the back. “You are welcome to the library upstairs, the right side has some more modern books Remus brought along from his library. If you don’t mind, Remus,” Sirius asked, his eyes turning to Remus.

“Of course not,” Remus said warmly. “I can recommend some other books if you are interested, but truly, Sirius is the expert. He has some bizarre fixation on goblin finances apparently.” Remus didn’t add that Sirius learned all of this his 6th year in the wake of being kicked out of the family home as he tried to figure out how to pay for his motorbike. The financial lectures they’d all undergone had been so extensive they’d all done well on their History of Magic exams, even Peter. McGonnagall had called them in and just stared at them for ten minutes, expecting someone to break and explain how they cheated. Instead, Sirius began giving her an impromptu lecture on diversifying wizarding and Muggle investments and she’d eventually given them each 5 House points, and sent them to dinner, while sighing loudly. Remus wondered if she had used any of the notes she’d taken as Sirius spoke.

“Says the man who can give a treatise on mer-creatures. In fact, on the entirety of magical beasts,” Sirius retorted good naturedly.

“I _ am _ a Fantastic Beast Sirius, I have to know my brethren.”

Ron let out a snort. “It’s cool to see your professors just being blokes!”

Fred rolled his eyes. “Yes Ronald, Professor Lupin and Sirius Black are just regular blokes.”

“We are,” Sirius argued. “Honestly, we covered it up with pranks and charm, but we were honestly happiest sitting around with a stack of books, solving a difficult Arithmancy problem.”

The twins looked at them in honest disappointment. “Arithmancy,” Fred asked aghast. “You sat around doing Arithmancy.”

Sirius let out a chortle. “Yes Fred, Arithmancy. A very useful subject.”

“Did you get a NEWT in it?” Ginny asked curiously. “Only it’s supposed to be very hard, and Hermione is already nervous about it.”

“He did,” Remus said, a touch of irritation in his voice. “First person to in almost two decades. Professor Sine actually threw him a party. If he only knew why Sirius had learned all those vectors.”

Sirius waggled his eyebrows at Remus. “Even you have to admit, when the pudding exploded, it was a true thing of magic.”

George sighed loudly, with an expression of joy. “This, I can get behind. What kind of pudding, and who did explode over?”

“Yorkshire, if I remember properly. And the Slytherins of course. Plus a few Ravenclaws, the swots.” 

Remus rolled his eyes. “Swots, my arse. More like you pummeled that Ravenclaw who’d dumped Cordelia Burgess.” 

“He dumped her via howler, Moony. Yeah house-unity and what-not, but who does that? It’s an absolutely vile thing to do.”

The twins eyes were shining, their hands holding their chins in identical poses, watching the conversation like it was a tennis match. 

“And the fact that he was vocally trying to date Lily had nothing to do with it.” 

Sirius let out a loose chuckle. “James was behaving himself,” he explained to their avid listeners. “So it behooved me to make twice the mischief.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Twice to catastrophic mess you mean. And don’t act as if it didn’t take our collective minds, James included to figure that out. Getting the pies in the airpies up, the arcs, getting around that shield the Slytherin 7th years had put over their heads.”

“Wait,” Fred said slowly. “The Pie incident? The one Nearly Headless Nick told us about? The one that Peeves was on? That was you guys?”

Remus felt a swell of pride, and then wanted to laugh at his own emotions. “Peeves was not so much in on it, as a willing contributor once the mayhem began. Part of the math was trying to figure him in.”

“How did you hide pies to launch them?” Arthur asked from over Remus’s shoulder. They both turned, and realized the whole table was listening to them avidly.

Sirius pulled a sheet of paper from the end of the table, left over from the last meeting and began to sketch on it, drawing as he spoke. “No, no, it was each pie. They had timers in them, baked in that morning, and were set to launch in groups, in specific directions. You had to plan the wind speed, and the force gravity vector.” He drew multiple arcs out on the page in front of him.

“Did this count as a prank, Remus?” Bill asked amusedly.

“Decidedly. Mainly because neither myself, nor Sirius in all reality actually understood this. Projectiles was always James’ thing.”

“Ooh, remember the flowers on Valentine’s Day?” Sirius asked excitedly. 

“I do,” Remus replied.

“I’m starting to grasp why the twins look up to you so much,” Bill said with amusement, looking down at the parchment that was rapidly filling with Sirius’s formal handwriting. He turned to the twins. “And to think, I was impressed by those mini dragon fireworks you two made last year.” He shook his head in abject disappointment.

Sirius’s head popped up from his drawing, eyeing the twins with renewed interest. “Fireworks, you two are working in fireworks?!”

Remus groaned, low and loud but it wasn’t heard over the shuffle of Sirius herding Fred and George from the room. “Yes, to the library gentleman, I assure you this is where you want to go.” As the twins clattered up the stairs, Sirius hollered “Molly, I’m taking the twins to the library for the morning for some studying on alchemy!”

Arthur’s face was pink with laughter as he watched. “Should I be concerned?” he asked Remus. 

“Likely, but they will inadvertently learn something.”

Molly bustled back into the room. “Honestly Arthur, I’d be amazed if either of those boys knew what a library was. I don’t care why they are in there as long as they are in there. As for the rest of you,” her eyes lingered on the group sitting in front of her. “It’s cleaning time!” Arthur and Bill made a hasty retreat for the front door, calling out about ministerial work as Molly began listing chores for the day.

The day moved quickly as everyone was assigned floors and tasks to complete. Molly ran her cleaning like a general, and even Sirius looked relieved to be able to simply follow instructions as the Dark Magic was stripped from the house. He’d left the twins with a stack of alchemical textbooks as he stood in the upstairs parlor with Remus, waving his wand repetitively, slowly stripping the walls of their magic. Ron was more enthusiastic than efficient, but the day moved quickly, and by evening they’d managed to clean three more bedrooms and another parlor. 

Trooping downstairs, they were met with a red-faced Molly and a kitchen table overflowing with food, and an irate house-elf attempting to pull dishes out from under the food on the table. Sirius didn’t even bother to shout, simply kicked Kreacher back into his closet, in a move that was so uncaring it made Remus squeamish. He was more surprised to see Molly give Sirius a nod of thanks in response as the trays were carried out to the main dining table. Ginny began asking questions about the magic in the walls, and how it was originally applied, and Remus allowed himself to be pulled into the scholarly discussion instead of remarking on Sirius’s treatment of Kreacher. 

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Remus took another gulp from his glass, surreptitiously keeping the glass and nearby pitcher close to him. Sirius gaveshot him a grin, and tipped his glass closer for a refill. The two had taken to keeping lager at the table, and while he was sure Molly was aware, he was also sure she’d be furious if her children recognized it. Bill’ had eyed the pitcher more than once this evening already. He clinked his glass lightly with Sirius, and their eyes locked for a moment, a smile reaching out between them. If they were alone, or in some nondescript pub, Remus would have leaned across and brushed their lips together. As it was, Sirius was leaning forward, his intention clear, and Remus pulled back slightly, even as he laid his hand on Sirius’s thigh to mollify him. Sirius shot him a wink, and opened his mouth when a clatter was heard sharply above them. 

“What’s that,” Ginny says, looking up at the ceiling. The room had quieted with the thudding, and in the silence, the “whoosh” of the fireplace above could almost be heard. More footsteps echoed, and a creaking began in the stairwell.

“Look at the time,” Molly said loudly. She began herding all the younger Weasleys from the room. “Upstains! B, baths, and books and bedtime!”

“We aren’t 6 anymore,” Fred grumbled as he was pushed along. The other children attempted to voice their complaints as well, but the door to the stairs was crashing open and Mad-Eye Moody stood there, his eye whirling.

“Excuse me, Alastor,” Molly said, and prodded each child in the back to get them moving up the stairs. Some greetings drifted down the stairs as more members of the Order trickled in, taking the recently vacated seats. 

Sirius settled quietly next to Remus, and surprisingly fitted their palms together, fingers interlaced. He laid their hands together on his left thigh and sat up straight, his other elbow leaning on the table. Remus squeezed his hand hard, and tried to relax the rest of his body as his eyes wandered over the members positioningas they positioned themselves around the table, while dodging as the dishware flyingsped by into the kitchen. 

Emmeline made eye contact with a sharp nod and smile, but turned suddenly on noticing the way both their hands disappeared under the table. Sirius made to pull away, but Remus only gripped him harder. Maybe he didn’t want to kiss in front of his former students, but he wouldn’t pretend to be anything but Sirius’s partner in front of this group that took his hospitality but questioned him so greatly. Conversations peppered around them, greetings called out, and questions about families. No one spoke to either Remus or Sirius, and Sirius’s grip became minutely tighter. It didn’t help that Mad-Eye was staring at them, his magical eye focused on their hands. Untangling their fingers slightly, Remus gave him the bird, his face still placidly looking forward.

Mad-Eye let out a short laugh. “Always thought your backbone was steel, boy,” he thundered, and slammed down in front of them. 

Sirius let out a snort, and raised an eyebrow. “Thinking of us were you, Alastor?” There’s a smile in his voice as he looked at the old man. 

“Oh you were always balls and brass, Black. Best damn fighter I’d seen in years, though to be fair, you were also the most reckless. You and Potter, idiots through and through. Lupin though, Lupin was calculated. Respect that in a man.”

“He was always the brains to our operation,” Sirius replied. 

“And the brawn,” Mad-Eye replied. “Don’t think I don’t remember that fight in Cokeworth. Be honest with yourself Black, he _ was _ your operation.”

“Still am,” Remus said lightly. Sirius laughed heartily, his head thrown back, and there was a quiet that fell over the room. Remus looked around, eyeing the widened eyes of some of the younger members. He felt a swell of anger, and wanted to shout at these people so easily able to come into their home and look at them with distaste._ The rebellion my arse _, he thought. 

Sirius only smirked. “I forgot my laughter is now used to scare naughty children,” he said drolly.

“It was certainly used by professors as a harbinger of doom,” Minerva said primly as she walked in. General laughter followed that comment. “You still hold the record for most detentions, though really, how you lot got that placque up in the trophy room I will never know.” Her voice is rich with fondness and pride, and as she stepped by them, she placed her hand lightly against both their faces. 

“A wonderful innovative piece of magic,” Dumbledore voiced as he stood at the head of the table. “One we may need you to help us with in the future.” He focused on the room at large, and asked, “Shall we begin?”

It was a typical meeting, listing out those who could be brought into the fold and those who had already begun to work for Voldemort in earnest. Considerations for Muggle-borns were discussed, delving into options for protection. Remus and Sirius both spoke occasionally, but were more than willing to listen to the others’ suggestions. 

The conversations were wrapping up when someone asked, “And what of the Boy Who Lived? Where is he, and where will we keep him?” Faces turned to Dumbledore who nodded.

“I think it best that he stay in his current location as long as possible, and then moved to Hogwarts at the beginning of term.” Dumbledore smiled benevolently. “If that is all?”

“So you are managing him, then?” another voice asked anxiously. 

Before Dumbledore could respond, Bill broke in. “Excuse me, Professor, but why are you making these decisions?”

The room was immediately silenced. “Of course I will discuss this with you parents,” Dumbledore said lightly nodding to Arthur and Molly. “And Remus and Sirius.” This caused several people to have a confused look.

“Harry isn’t to be managed, though,” Bill said firmly. He was standing up, and Remus was surprised to see Arthur pushing his chair out to stand behind him. “He’s a child.” Vehemence laced his voice, and Molly’s militant nod emphasized this. 

Remus wanted to sigh in frustration. Breaking rank with Dumbledore never ended well, and doing it in order to hide the truth from lie to Harry would end even worse. Sirius was tensing next to him. He was more than frustrated with Molly’s crusade to keep the kids completely in the dark.

“We all want what’s best for the boy,” Mad-Eye grumbled. “Dumbledore’s in charge of him, and he can decide that. Important for the rest of us to get on with planning on how to take out these growing Death Eaters.”

There was a nod from several people, and Mad-Eye began lumbering to his feet.

“You misunderstand my son, Alastor. Our question isn’t whether Harry’s best interests are at heart, it's why only Albus is even making these decisions.” Arthur didn’t flinch as Mad-Eye glared at him. “I do agree; the general group doesn’t need to be here for this.” There was a finality to his voice, and the other members began filtering out as Mad-Eye sat back down in his seat. Further up the table, Minerva was still seated next to Albus, her eyes fixated on Arthur. Albus looked serene. Mundungus was the last to leave, looking back curiously before the door closed.

Dumbledore opened his mouth, but Molly cut him off, her voice curt. “Do you have guardianship of Harry?,” she asked, standing next to Arthur and Bill. The Weasleys made a human shield, blocking Sirius and Remus from Dumbledore’s view, but Remus could feel his gaze. Sirius had said nothing during the entire exchange, his hand limp in Remus’s.

“I don’t think--” Dumbledore began, but his voice was cut off.

“It was a yes or no question, Albus,” Minerva said testily. She was sitting ramrod straight in her seat, a steely glint in her eye. “And I think you have answered it with that response. I think the bigger question now is if you have asked Sirius since?” There was a tinge of fury in her voice, and Dumbledore turned to her with some dismay in surprise.

“Minerva, I feel that this is a most complex situation, as I outlined to you earlier. The less people know, the more Harry will be protected. Staying with his blood family is a matter-” Dumbledore was again cut off, this time by Sirius. 

“I know, Albus. James and Lily told me.” There was something subdued in his voice, and Remus was suddenly angry. 

Dumbledore nodded regally. “Then you understand the choices I made.” His voice was filled with gravitas, no twinkle in his eye.

Sirius turned away and Remus had had enough. “_I don’t understand _,” he said gruffly. “I don’t understand, so without giving away whatever grand secret it is, please explain it to me.” 

Mad-Eye smiled at him from across the table, and murmured “Brawn,” under his breath.

Dumbledore inclined his head. “Harry’s safety is paramount, and living with his blood family improves upon the charms that Lily’s sacrifice placed on him. He has lived with family, and while I wish they had shown him more affection, it was the best decision.” There was a finality to his voice. 

“The best decision,” Remus said incredulously. “To leave him isolated from the rest of the magical world, to leave him unloved and unwanted?”

“The magical world had made a saviour out of him,” Dumbledore responded, his voice calm, like he was giving a particularly thorny lecture. “You heard them this evening, ‘The Boy Who Lived’ is a heavy title for a child to wear. I wanted him to grow up away from that.”

“The first time I saw him,” Molly said quietly, her voice tight with fury, “he looked so small, I thought him to be no older than 8. And the summer afterwards, there were bars on his window, Albus, bars! He was so malnourished his skin had gone sallow!”

Albus closed his eyes. “There are many things at play, Molly,” he said, trying to soothe her. “He is safe.”

“He’s an abused child,” Sirius said roughly. HIs voice cracked as he continued, “Take it from someone who saw it in the mirror. No affection, disgust for your person, and complete isolation. It wears on a soul, especially one that is forming.”

“They are his family, Sirius.” 

Rage ripped from the words from Remus’s chest. “Oh yes, his family. Who locked him under the stairs, worked him like a house-elf, starved him, beat him.”

“He was never abused,” Dumbledore said, his voice quiet but firm.

“Oh and it’s a normal reaction to duck when someone raises their arm,” snapped Minerva. “Honestly Albus, if that wasn’t glaringly apparent. I always thought you had _ done _ something about it.”

“There is more at play,” Dumbledore said again, his voice now rising slightly. “I had to consider-”

“Yes, you had to consider the greater wizarding world at large, but who considered Harry?” Arthur asked. “He’s a lovely young man, but he’s not-” Arthur struggled to find words.

“From the stories Ron and Ginny tell, it sounds like he doesn’t much value his own life.” The chill of Bill’s words silenced the conversation, all turning towards Albus again.

“I know the choices you made, and I know why you made them, Albus.” There was condemnation in Sirius’s voice as he looked at his old headmaster. “You know how James and Lily would feel, there’s no point in me repeating it. It’s why they wouldn’t let you be secret keeper.” There was a decades old snub in those words, and Dumbledore turned slightly away. “I’m an escaped convict, there’s little I can do to change what is happening, especially now. But I am curious, how did you get around the goblins?”

Dumbledore looked at him, surprised. “That’s your question, Sirius. The goblins?”

“Yes, the goblins,” Sirius replied. He had his barrister voice on, and Remus almost wanted to smile. “Harry’s told me about his first trip to Gringotts and opening his vault. Where did you get the key?”

Dumbledore did not speak for a long moment, studying Sirius over his half-moon shaped glasses, his lips moving wordlessly. “You continue to be one of the brightest students I’ve ever had, Sirius. It was a joy to watch you take up your courses in Edinburgh.”

“And I’m sure a greater joy to watch me leave them to take up your cause and mantle,” Sirius responded drolly. “Spare me, Albus, I spent twelve years in Azkaban and didn’t get a trial. Your affection is both ill-timed and unneeded. We all know who you felt worthy of your unwavering support.”

Molly gasped lightly, but Remus could see the approval in Minerva’s eyes. He stood up straighter, wanting to grab Sirius’s hand but unwilling to shake his focus.

“The goblins, Albus,” Sirius repeated himself, enunciating each word. 

“What the deuce do the goblins have to do with anything,” Mad-Eye barked, surprising all of them. He was still seated, and at some point had acquired the jug of lager. He poured a large amount into his glass. “This lager is clean, thank you gents. Are the goblins in charge of the Potter boy then?”

“The Potters had a will,” Bill explained quietly. “I have it, actually. In fact, I have both the Muggle and wizarding forms.” At the look of incredulity from the room, he shrugged. “Curse breaking requires far more time in research than most people expect.”

Mad-Eye made a “get on with it” motion.

“He’s quite wealthy, in both worlds. Mrs. Potter had taken out a “life insurance” policy, and when their deaths were ruled an accident secondary to a faulty gas line, both her and Mr. Potter’s policies paid out.” At his father’s confused look, he explained, “Muggles can fill out official paperwork and pay a fee and if they die, the company then gives a large sum of money to the family. It’s a back-up plan, very clever.” Arthur nodded, looking impressed. “Harry should have been well provided for. Though from what Ron’s told me, it doesn’t appear that Harry was aware, he appeared to have gone without.”

“It was placed into Harry’s Gringotts vault,” Sirius responded. “The Potter’s Muggle accounts were shuttered two years after their deaths and the money was shifted back to Gringotts. A good time actually, the pound to galleon exchange rate was quite favorable.” Before Mad-Eye could voice his disgruntled confusion, Sirius continued. “I’m his guardian, Alastor. I always have been. My curiosity now is how Albus managed to circumvent the stops Lily put in place so that this exact scenario would not have played out.”

“And what scenario is that, Black?” Mad-Eye asked as he took a deep gulp from the glass in front of him.

“One where Dumbledore had this much control,” Sirius replied. “She had Muggle paperwork filled out to force things along in a certain direction. Those policies were to pay out to Remus. Not Harry.”

Remus felt a sharp, heady pain in his chest. “What?” he asked, almost broken.

Sirius’s voice was monotone. “Werewolves aren’t real in the Muggle world. So even if the wizengamot passed an idiotic law stopping you from inheriting galleons, you would be able to fiscally support yourself in the Muggle world. And Harry, for that matter.” 

Remus thought of the years struggling, the fight to feed himself, to clothe himself, the thousands of little debasements he underwent to stay afloat. All the while thinking of those few perfect years, those years when he thought everything might work out after all. He basked in the cruel irony that wartime was the best of times for him, the time when he knew who he was and that he was loved. It wasn’t even the money, it was the simple fact that he had been _ remembered _ instead of an afterthought to the people he loved most.

“Bloody hell,” Bill whispered, breaking Remus from his reverie. “It was thousands of pounds, enough to live on for years.”

“So how did you do it, Albus? I know _ why _ you did it, but I’d like to know how. If nothing else, Bill here could use the lesson on manipulating goblins and Muggles alike.” Sirius’s voice was scathing. There was an anger bubbling up that would erupt like lava, and Remus has no interest to stop it. No, his anger was equal, his fury mounting, and as he scanned the room, it seemed to be an emotion felt by all.

“He was abused Albus! Abused,” Molly said, her voice rising. “There was money, there was someone who the Potters cared enough for to leave money to, why was Harry left alone all those years?”

Dumbledore closed his eyes again, seating himself at the head of the table. Instead of the majesty he’d exuded before, he simply looked exhausted, and humbled. He shook his head slowly.

“He had to be,” Bill said with dawning realization. “Ron said it, Harry’s never been good at self-preservation.”

“The most astute of all Weasley’s,” drawled a voice from the back of the room. Everyone whipped around as Severus Snape slowly moved into the room. Sirius’s hackled visibly rose, the calm mask he’d worn falling away. 

“Snape, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Remus tried to keep his voice modulated.

“Wolf,” Snape replied, smirking as Sirius took a step forward. “For once I am on your side. Albus, this has been a long tedious conversation, and I need to discuss more pressing matters with you. Be it to simply say, Albus placed him where he was needed to be for the future, with all the other parts in their necessary spots.” The malice oozed from his voice, but Remus could hear an undertone of something else. It took him a moment to place it, and he recognized it as grief.

“You were friends with Lily, Severus. This was not what she had wanted.”

Snape turned to him with a glare. “She’s dead, due to Potter and Black’s stupidity. What she wanted is no longer moot.”

Remus wanted to reply, but Dumbledore’s voice cut through. “I had papers filed stating I was the executor of both wills, to be dealt with posthumously.” He closed his eyes for a long moment. “There was a fee. In return, the goblins simply ignored the earlier will in face of the new documents.” His eyes found Remus’s. “I truly did not know what was in them beyond Sirius’s guardianship. I believed I was protecting him, as an Azkaban detainee does not lose guardianship privileges.” 

Sirius was shaking next to Remus, but his voice came out crisp. “See Bill, money. And what Albus isn’t saying is that it also bought them some votes on the Wizengamot. There were a series of very interesting laws that came out in ‘82.” There was a ringing silence in the room, and Dumbledore continued to sit, looking beseechingly at Sirius.

“Get out of my house,” Sirius said finally, turning away. “Whatever spying Snivellus has done, you can discuss it elsewhere.” The door slammed shut behind him.

Remus couldn’t move, a rage that felt like an inferno building in him. “The werewolf regulations,” he asked, staring Dumbledore down. Dumbledore nodded, his face frozen. “Okay then,” he whispered.

“If we are done with the theatrics,” Snape drawled, “I have traveled here to discuss actual Order business, and not the needs of that spoiled whelp.”

“Get the fuck out of this house,” Remus raged, his face turning red with fury. Severus took a step back. 

“Calm yourself, Wolf.”

With a snap of rage, the fire directly behind Dumbledore was lit. A box of Floo powder came racing down the stairs, and threw open the door to the room. It skidded to a halt in front of Dumbledore. “Get out,” he repeated, his voice growling. He knew his eyes were turning yellow. “GET OUT!” he roared, and Snape spun throwing the Floo powder on the fire. With a whirl of green fire he was gone.

Remus shook his head at Dumbledore and nodded at the fire. He’d learn civility with him again, he’d learn to exhibit a calm facade. The Order, the War, required a leader and Remus knew that Dumbledore was the man for the job. That belief, that intrinsic understanding that Dumbledore was good, and right and just, was lost forever though. Smothered under a deluge of facts, leading not only to his years of exile and depression, but the systematic abuse of a child he loved. A child he was meant to help raise. 

He felt something expel out of him as Dumbledore disappeared from sight.

“My boy,” Minerva croaked, her eyes filled with tears. “My boy, I--” She stopped, her fingertips pressed to her lips, holding in a sob. “I will watch over him, because he’s also my boy,” she said finally, and Remus nodded in understanding. She glanced briefly at the Weasley’s, and stepped into the fire as well. 

Mad-Eye had yet to move, but now took the last gulp from his tankard and stood roughly. “War going on,” he said finally, eyeing Remus. “Morale to keep up.”

“Understood,” Remus replied stiffly.

“Always said it. Brains and the brawn to your little set-up.” He patted Remus on the shoulder hard, two thwaps. “Molly, Arthur, take care of yourselves.” 

The green light had barely disappeared when Remus turned to head for the door. “Excuse me,” he called behind him. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“Remus-” Molly called out, but Remus ignored her and mounted the stairs. The children were still moving about, and laughter could be heard as Remus made a slow steady ascent.

In their room, Sirius sat on the bed, newly showered, his hair pulled back in a loose bun. He was staring out the window, an unfathomable look on his face.

“Sirius,” Remus whispered coming closer. “Siri,” he said, touching the small prickly hairs on Sirius’s cheek. Sirius’s eyes closed, and he leaned into the touch, letting out a sigh. 

“It’s nice to know that all it ever took was money.” Remus leaned forward, pressing his face into Sirius’s neck, and was surprised when Sirius turned them, and pulled them into the bed, Remus sprawled across his lap. 

Remus tucked himself in further, wordlessly trying to express all the anger and frustration he felt. 

“It’s even nicer to know that he didn’t let me rot in prison for no reason.”

Remus tensed at these words and tried to pull back, but Sirius’s hand held his face tight against him. “Harry was so alone. And Harry would never have been alone with me there. I made it easy for Dumbledore, so easy.”

Remus tried to shake his head, tried to get the words out. Yes Dumbledore was not all that was good, but to leave Sirius in Azkaban, to leave an innocent man with the dementors. 

“Neither can live while the other survives.”

“What,” Remus gasped, and finally Sirius released him. 

“Neither can live while the other survives. That was the prophecy, that was why Voldemort came after James and Lily. To kill Harry. Because he was the one who was prophesied to defeat the Dark Lord.” Remus stilled, staring at Sirius in horror. “And while James was focused on what to do to prevent anything from happening to the three of them, Lily was so aware of what Harry would become if she and James weren’t there to remind people he was a child. Not a savior, not a warrior, but a child. Meant to live and laugh and grow. She was the one who insisted on not using Dumbledore as the Secret Keeper, she was the one who insisted on the Muggle legalities being followed. She put up so many roadblocks to keep this situation from happening, to plan beyond herself.” Sirius swallowed, tears in his eyes. “And I bollocksed it up, in a fit of anger and idiocy. The usual Black Rage. Only there was no James to know my next steps, to stop me from the irreparable.”

Remus began to weep, his body collapsing under the information. His fury was drained away to a bone deep sadness, a sense of longing for the days of before, and anger for his young self, for the boy Sirius had been. For James, with his glowing grin and ability to always see the bright side, Lily with her sarcastic quips and pragmatism. He missed Peter, with his enthusiasm and ability to look at things upside down and inside out. He missed belief, in something bigger, something better. He missed fighting for something, anything. He began babbling, saying “I’m sorry, Siri. I love you. I’m sorry, I love you,” trying to get out the feeling of guilt, of impotent rage that had been eating at him since that fateful summer night two years ago when he realized just how wrong he’d been. He’d ignored the love of his life, because there were too many secrets. But the weight of those secrets, the weight the three of them had been carrying...Remus wondered at it. He felt such a shame in his gut, a sense of self-disgust beyond anything he’d felt before. This was beyond being a dark creature, being gay, being thin and being poor. Remus tried to pull away, to begin to beg forgiveness for the transgressions of before, but realized then that Sirius was hugging him, rocking him back and forth, his breath ghosting across his face. He was talking and for a few moments, Remus couldn’t understand what he was saying. “I love you, Remy. I love you, Remy,” over and over again, like a mantra. Remus folded himself in, wrapping his arms around Sirius’s waist, burrowing closer. 

Their breaths, perfectly in sync, slowly slowed, and they both drifted to sleep.

Sirius was still asleep the next morning when Remus blearily opened his eyes. They were folded over one another, making it difficult to figure out a way to extricate himself. He pulled away slightly, and was able to slip out of the covers and into the washroom. 

His face was a blotched mess, tears, snot and wrinkles competing for prominence. Never, in all the self-evaluation Remus had mustered in the two years since Sirius had returned, had he thought to consider if it was all his fault. He’d assumed, for so long, that the toil of war had slowly broken into the cracks of their relationship, and while it had once convinced him that the secrets Sirius held were Dark Magic and treachery, then simply the workings of Peter to spread discord, he now understood were a man trying to keep three beloved people alive. 

Now, he began to recognize his inability to settle down with Sirius, to believe in them in the way he could now. In so many ways, he’d built into the glamour of Sirius Black, instead of the man he knew lay beneath. Was it so much easier now to elevate him from insane Azkaban escapee, than acknowledge the complexities beyond the golden bad boy of Hogwarts? He’d failed them both, and while he could acknowledge that Sirius had his own faults, he knew, in his heart, that he would never have ended up falsely imprisoned. Sirius would have bellowed, would have fought for a trial. And lived with the consequences. 

Remus simply added conjecture and fear to the lies and withholding Sirius had given him. Had walked away. He let his mind bathe for a moment in Sirius’s mantra from the night before, clung to it sharply, digging his nails in, before returning to their bedroom. 

Sirius was awake, sitting in the bed, his knees drawn up. His eyes looked clear as he smiled wanly at Remus. “Moony, the last fourteen years of my life and Harry’s, are not your fault.” There’s a finality to his tone, a Black Pronouncement, Lily liked to call them, when Sirius had made his mind up and nothing would sway it.

“I knew you were lying, you were holding back. And then I just-I let everyone else fill in the blanks.” Remus stood brokenly in front of the bed, too afraid to move closer, too afraid to pull back. This conversation was such a long time coming, avoided time and again.

“I was lying, I was holding-back. We all were. It was war, and our leader traded on secrets and more secrets.” At the shake of Remus’s head, Sirius sighed. “James didn’t tell me about the prophecy.”

“What,” Remus asked, confused.

“Lily did. She hated the subterfuge, couldn’t understand how telling more people wouldn’t benefit Harry. She wanted to tell you and Peter, but Dumbledore got wind, and was furious. I honestly had never seen either of them in such a rage. He convinced her in the end, but in all honesty, had you been home that fall, she would have told you, damn the consequences.”

“I was living in werewolf camps,” Remus said. “Dumbledore’s orders. Meant to get them to not follow Voldemort, but in the end, most just kept to themselves and tried to keep away from Fenrir as much as me.”

Sirius nodded. “A fool’s errand, but Dumbledore was always a fool.” At Remus’s surprised look, Sirius sighed. “It’s as if all the anger, the rage that has built in me has been stripped away Remy. Now I know. I know why I was left there to rot. I wasn’t forgotten, I was inconvenient for a larger plan.” Sirius smiled. “It’s sadistic, but I can at least appreciate the planning.” At Remus’s shocked face, he tilted his head helplessly. “I’m from a family of Slytherin’s. I can appreciate cunning.”

“So Dumbledore let you be falsely imprisoned so Harry would become his charge?”

“No, Dumbledore _ left me _ in Azkaban because it fit his plans, and the narrative for why I’d been arrested made enough sense, if you didn’t dig. A fool, who assumed better of others.” Remus shook his head, and slid onto the bed. Sirius slid forward and pulled Remus towards him again, letting his head rest on his chest. 

“And the money?”

“An actual mistake. I truly think that if he knew that money was yours, he’d have let it go to you. Instead he invalidated anything Lily’d filed, and consequently made things harder for you. In all honesty, I think he forgot about you.”

Remus laughed at this, a bitter bone rattling laugh. Wasn’t that the struggle, to remember the individual people in the breadth of this ideal ridden war?

“It’s not your fault, Remus. It’s convenient, for once, there’s a clear bad guy, a villian to blame it on.” He reached his hand out, and Remus let their fingers slide together as he was pulled towards the bed. “Voldemort,” Sirius said with a lopsided grin. “Say it with me Moons, VOLDEMORT!” Remus couldn’t help but sag, his weight falling into Sirius’s legs as he yelled “VOLDEMORT!”

There was a knock at their door, tentative but growing louder. “You two all right in there,” Ron’s voice called out.

“Superb,” Sirius said, and Remus began to laugh, great big guffaws pouring out of him as he murmured, “Voldemort, what’s in a name, Voldemort.”

Ron slowly opened the door, and Sirius waved him in. “Nothing to see here, only a werewolf finally gone ‘round the bend.”

Ron gave an awkward smile. “Heard the noise, don’t know why you are yelling You-know-who’s name, but wanted to let you know the news.” At Sirius’s inquisitive eyebrow raise, he continued, “Hermione is coming today, it’s been all set up. And Harry is coming in two weeks!”

Remus sits up, surprised. “Harry--coming, wait here?”

“In two weeks,” Ron replied. “Only we aren’t to tell him in case its intercepted, but isn’t that grand? Dumbledore said. And Hermione tomorrow, she was supposed to come earlier…” Ron’s voice prattled on, cheerfully, but Remus didn’t hear anymore. This was it, the apology for thirteen years worth of lies. Their god-son, and Remus knew, in his heart of hearts why Harry never had a god-mother. He knew who he was meant to be to that boy. Their godson was coming for a month, to spend together. 

Sirius was rising from the bed, pulling Remus behind him. They shuffled into their housecoats, and followed Ron down the stairs. He chattered on, excited about having his friends back, about the future and the coming pranks.

Sirius had his fingers still laced with his, as they walked into the dining room, windows cleaned with light streaming through. Molly stood at the head of the table, as breakfast foods whirled around her, landing in their proper place setting. She sent them both a warm smile, and squeezed Remus’s shoulder as he stepped by.

“Good news about our visitors, yes,” she said brightly, a cup of tea pouring filling at Remus place. He opened his mouth to respond, but she patted his shoulder lightly tutting him. “Eat, eat boys.” Her eyes were lighter than they’d been in days, and she placed a danish in front of Sirius before moving back to the kitchen. “Let me know what else you may need,” she called.

There was a sense of familiarity and comfort Remus felt, watching Sirius eat his danish while chatting with Bill. More than that, there was a sense of possibility, and hope. That they would survive this war, that they would find more from this life than just getting through it. Remus felt as if he were whole for the first time, in what felt like forever, and let out a sigh. 

The war would happen. There would be deaths, injury, tears and more lies; but he knew himself now, and more importantly, he knew he was loved. He leaned over and pressed a light kiss to Sirius’s temple. 

He felt more than saw Sirius freeze for a moment before relaxing. The rest of the room continued on, even though Remus knew they’d seen the kiss. Sirius sighed, his muscles going loose and he leaned into Remus, threading his hand around his waist.

“So Bill, tell me what the goblins did yesterday,” Sirius asked, taking another gulp of his tea, his fingers playing along Remus’s ribs. 

These were halcyon days, Remus realized. His second chance, his possibility. “Don’t let him beat you, Bill,” he interrupted, and basked in the sound of Sirius’s laughter. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Sirius/Remus and think that its a relationship that was so hinted, but not explored. In my mind, this completely could have happened and is cannon. Thank you for reading!


End file.
